The first time she’d come through these gates, she hadn’t been tall enough to see out of the car window. She could remember the bare branches of the trees, angling toward heaven with skeleton-like arms—and being afraid. Everything that had confirmed her identity was gone: her parents, her home—even her own toys. All she’d been allowed to bring were her clothes, a small teddy bear and her blankie.She sighed. As she remembered, even the blankie hadn’t lasted long. One day it went to the laundry and never came back. As she’d grown older, she’d often wondered if that had been their way of weaning her from her past, or if it had truly been lost, as they’d claimed.“Are you okay?” Clay asked.Frankie nodded. The concern on his face was touching.“I’m fine,” she said quietly. “Just a lot to absorb.”He nodded, remembering himself at the age of four and trying to put himself in her place. He couldn’t imagine the devastation of losing his mom and dad, and he felt like crying for the little girl that she’d been.The driveway began to circle, and he slowed to take the turn.
